The idea of sleep was far from my mind. The attractive modern furniture of the room could not deprive the paneled walls of the musty antiquity2 which was their birthright. This solitary3 window deeply set and overlooking the orchard upon which the secret stair was said to open, struck a note of more remote antiquity, casting back beyond the carousing4 days of the Stuart monarchs6 to the troublous time of the Middle Ages.
An air of ghostly evil had seemed to arise like a miasma7 within the house from the moment that we had been disturbed by the unaccountable rapping. It was at a late hour that we had separated, and none of us, I think, welcomed the breaking up of our little party. Mrs. Oram, the housekeeper8, had been closely questioned by Smith—for Homopoulo, as a new-comer, could not be expected to know anything of the history of Graywater Park. The old lady admitted the existence of the tradition which Nayland Smith had in some way unearthed9, but assured us that never, in her time, had the uneasy spirit declared himself. She was ignorant (or, like the excellent retainer that she was, professed10 to be ignorant) of the location of the historic chamber11 and staircase.
As for Homopoulo, hitherto so irreproachably12 imperturbable13, I had rarely seen a man in such a state of passive panic. His dark face was blanched14 to the hue15 of dirty parchment and his forehead dewed with cold perspiration16. I mentally predicted an early resignation in the household of Sir Lionel Barton. Homopoulo might be an excellent butler, but his superstitious17 Greek nature was clearly incapable18 of sustaining existence beneath the same roof with a family ghost, hoary19 though the specter's antiquity might be.
Where the skeleton shadows of the fruit trees lay beneath me on the fresh green turf my fancy persistently20 fashioned a black-clad figure flitting from tree to tree. Sleep indeed was impossible. Once I thought I detected the howling of the distant leopards21.
Somewhere on the floor above me, Nayland Smith, I knew, at that moment would be restlessly pacing his room, the exact situation of which I could not identify, because of the quaint22, rambling23 passages whereby one approached it. It was in regard to Kâramaneh, however, that my misgivings24 were the keenest. Already her position had been strange enough, in those unfamiliar25 surroundings, but what tremors26 must have been hers now in the still watches of the night, following the ghostly manifestations27 which had so dramatically interrupted Nayland Smith's story, I dared not imagine. She had been allotted28 an apartment somewhere upon the ground floor, and Mrs. Oram, whose motherly interest in the girl had touched me deeply, had gone with her to her room, where no doubt her presence had done much to restore the girl's courage.
Graywater Park stood upon a well-wooded slope, and, to the southwest, starting above the trees almost like a giant Spanish priest, showed a solitary tower. With a vague and indefinite interest I watched it. It was Monkswell, an uninhabited place belonging to Sir Lionel's estate and dating, in part, to the days of King John. Flicking29 the ash from my cigarette, I studied the ancient tower wondering idly what deeds had had their setting within its shadows, since the Angevin monarch5, in whose reign30 it saw the light, had signed the Magna Charta.
This was a perfect night, and very still. Nothing stirred, within or without Greywater Park. Yet I was conscious of a definite disquietude which I could only suppose to be ascribable to the weird31 events of the evening, but which seemed rather to increase than to diminish.
I tossed the end of my cigarette out into the darkness, determined32 to turn in, although I had never felt more wide awake in my life. One parting glance I cast into the skeleton orchard and was on the point of standing33 up, when—although no breezed stirred—a shower of ivy34 leaves rained down upon my head!
Brushing them away irritably35, I looked up—and a second shower dropped fully36 upon my face and filled my eyes with dust. I drew back, checking an exclamation37. What with the depth of the embrasure, due to the great thickness of the wall, and the leafy tangle38 above the window, I could see for no great distance up the face of the building; but a faint sound of rustling39 and stumbling which proceeded from somewhere above me proclaimed that some one, or something, was climbing either up or down the wall of the corner tower in which I was housed!
Partially40 removing the dust from my smarting eyes, I returned to the embrasure, and stepping from the chair on to the deep ledge41, I grasped the corner of the quaint, diamond-paned window, which I had opened to its fullest extent, and craned forth42.
Now I could see the ivy-grown battlements surmounting43 the tower (the east wing, in which my room was situated44, was the oldest part of Graywater Park). Sharply outlined against the cloudless sky they showed … and the black silhouette45 of a man's head and shoulders leant over directly above me!
I drew back sharply. The climber, I thought, had not seen me, although he was evidently peering down at my window. What did it mean?
As I crouched46 in the embrasure, a sudden giddiness assailed47 me, which at first I ascribed to a sympathetic nervous action due to having seen the man poised48 there at that dizzy height. But it increased, I swayed forward, and clutched at the wall to save myself. A deadly nausea49 overcame me … and a deadly doubt leapt to my mind.
In the past, Sir Lionel Barton had had spies in his household; what if the dark-faced Greek, Homopoulo, were another of these? I thought of the '45 port, of the ghostly rapping; and I thought of the man who crouched upon the roof of the tower above my open window.
My symptoms now were unmistakable; my head throbbed50 and my vision grew imperfect; there had to be an opiate in the wine!
I almost fell back into the room. Supporting myself by means of the chair, the chest of drawers, and finally, the bed-rail, I got to my grip, and with weakening fingers, extracted the little medicine-chest which was invariably my traveling companion.
* * * * * *
Grimly pitting my will against the drug, but still trembling weakly from the result of the treatment, internal and subcutaneous, which I had adopted, I staggered to the door out into the corridor and up the narrow, winding51 stairs to Smith's room. I carried an electric pocket-lamp, and by its light I found my way to the triangular52, paneled landing.
I tried the handle. As I had expected, the door was locked. I beat upon it with my fist.
"Smith!" I cried—"Smith!"
There was no reply.
Again I clamored; awaking ancient echoes within the rooms and all about me. But nothing moved and no answering voice rewarded my efforts; the other rooms were seemingly unoccupied, and Smith—was drugged!
My senses in disorder53, and a mist dancing before my eyes, I went stumbling down into the lower corridor. At the door of my own room I paused; a new fact had suddenly been revealed to me, a fact which the mazy windings54 of the corridors had hitherto led me to overlook. Smith's room was also in the east tower, and must be directly above mine!
"My God!" I whispered, thinking of the climber—"he has been murdered!"
I staggered into my room and clutched at the bed-rail to support myself, for my legs threatened to collapse55 beneath me. How should I act? That we were victims of a cunning plot, that the deathful Si-Fan had at last wreaked56 its vengeance57 upon Nayland Smith I could not doubt.
My brain reeled, and a weakness, mental and physical, threatened to conquer me completely. Indeed, I think I must have succumbed58, sapped as my strength had been by the drug administered to me, if the sound of a creaking stair had not arrested my attention and by the menace which it conveyed afforded a new stimulus59.
Some one was creeping down from the landing above—coming to my room! The creatures of the Yellow doctor, having despatched Nayland Smith, were approaching stealthily, stair by stair, to deal with me!
From my grip I took out the Browning pistol. The Chinese doctor's servants should have a warm reception. I burned to avenge60 my friend, who I was persuaded, lay murdered in the room above. I partially closed the door and took up a post immediately behind it. Nearer came the stealthy footsteps—nearer…. Now the one who approached had turned the angle of the passage….
Within sight of my door he seemed to stop; a shaft61 of white light crept through the opening, across the floor and on to the wall beyond. A moment it remained so—then was gone. The room became plunged62 in darkness.
Gripping the Browning with nervous fingers I waited, listening intently; but the silence remained unbroken. My gaze set upon the spot where the head of this midnight visitant might be expected to appear, I almost held my breath during the ensuing moments of frightful63 suspense64.
The door was opening; slowly—slowly—by almost imperceptible degrees. I held the pistol pointed65 rigidly66 before me and my gaze remained fixed67 intently on the dimly seen opening. I suppose I acted as ninety-nine men out of a hundred would have done in like case. Nothing appeared.
Then a voice—a voice that seemed to come from somewhere under the floor snapped:—
"Good God! it's Petrie!"
I dropped my gaze instantly … and there, looking up at me from the floor at my feet, I vaguely68 discerned the outline of a human head!
"Smith!" I whispered.
Nayland Smith—for indeed it was none other—stood up and entered the room.
"Thank God you are safe, old man," he said. "But in waiting for one who is stealthily entering a room, don't, as you love me, take it for granted that he will enter upright. I could have shot you from the floor with ease! But, mercifully, even in the darkness, I recognized your Arab slippers69!"
"Smith," I said, my heart beating wildly, "I thought you were drugged— murdered. The port contained an opiate."
"I guessed as much!" snapped Smith. "But despite the excellent tuition of Dr. Fu-Manchu, I am still childishly trustful; and the fact that I did not partake of the crusted '45 was not due to any suspicions which I entertained at that time."
"But, Smith, I saw you drink some port."
"I regret to contradict you, Petrie, but you must be aware that the state of my liver—due to a long residence in Burma—does not permit me to indulge in the luxury of port. My share of the '45 now reposes70 amid the moss71 in the tulip-bowl, which you may remember decorated the dining table! Not desiring to appear churlish, by means of a simple feat72 of legerdemain73 I drank your health and future happiness in claret!
"For God's sake what is going on, Smith? Some one climbed from your window."
"I climbed from my window!"
"What!" I said dazedly—"it was you! But what does it all mean?
Kâramaneh——"
"It is for her I fear, Petrie, now. We have not a moment to waste!"
He made for the door.
"Sir Lionel must be warned at all cost!" I cried.
"Impossible!" snapped Smith.
"What do you mean?"
"Sir Lionel has disappeared!"
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收听单词发音
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1
orchard
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| n.果园，果园里的全部果树，(美俚)棒球场 | |
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antiquity
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| n.古老；高龄；古物，古迹 | |
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solitary
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| adj.孤独的，独立的，荒凉的；n.隐士 | |
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carousing
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| v.痛饮，闹饮欢宴( carouse的现在分词 ) | |
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monarch
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| n.帝王，君主，最高统治者 | |
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monarchs
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| 君主，帝王( monarch的名词复数 ) | |
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7
miasma
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| n.毒气；不良气氛 | |
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8
housekeeper
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| n.管理家务的主妇，女管家 | |
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9
unearthed
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| 出土的（考古） | |
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professed
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| 公开声称的，伪称的，已立誓信教的 | |
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chamber
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| n.房间，寝室；会议厅；议院；会所 | |
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12
irreproachably
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| adv.不可非难地，无过失地 | |
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imperturbable
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| adj.镇静的 | |
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14
blanched
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| v.使变白( blanch的过去式 )；使（植物）不见阳光而变白；酸洗（金属）使有光泽；用沸水烫（杏仁等）以便去皮 | |
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15
hue
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| n.色度；色调；样子 | |
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16
perspiration
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| n.汗水；出汗 | |
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17
superstitious
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| adj.迷信的 | |
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18
incapable
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| adj.无能力的，不能做某事的 | |
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19
hoary
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| adj.古老的；鬓发斑白的 | |
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20
persistently
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| ad.坚持地；固执地 | |
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21
leopards
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| n.豹( leopard的名词复数 )；本性难移 | |
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22
quaint
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| adj.古雅的，离奇有趣的，奇怪的 | |
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23
rambling
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| adj.[建]凌乱的，杂乱的 | |
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24
misgivings
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| n.疑虑，担忧，害怕；疑虑，担心，恐惧( misgiving的名词复数 )；疑惧 | |
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25
unfamiliar
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| adj.陌生的，不熟悉的 | |
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26
tremors
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| 震颤( tremor的名词复数 )； 战栗； 震颤声； 大地的轻微震动 | |
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27
manifestations
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| n.表示，显示（manifestation的复数形式） | |
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28
allotted
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| 分配，拨给，摊派( allot的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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29
flicking
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| （尤指用手指或手快速地）轻击( flick的现在分词 )； （用…）轻挥； （快速地）按开关； 向…笑了一下（或瞥了一眼等） | |
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30
reign
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| n.统治时期，统治，支配，盛行；v.占优势 | |
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31
weird
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| adj.古怪的，离奇的；怪诞的，神秘而可怕的 | |
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32
determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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33
standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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34
ivy
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| n.常青藤，常春藤 | |
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irritably
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| ad.易生气地 | |
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36
fully
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| adv.完全地，全部地，彻底地；充分地 | |
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exclamation
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| n.感叹号，惊呼，惊叹词 | |
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38
tangle
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| n.纠缠；缠结；混乱；v.(使)缠绕；变乱 | |
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39
rustling
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| n. 瑟瑟声，沙沙声 adj. 发沙沙声的 | |
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40
partially
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| adv.部分地，从某些方面讲 | |
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41
ledge
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| n.壁架，架状突出物；岩架，岩礁 | |
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42
forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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43
surmounting
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| 战胜( surmount的现在分词 )； 克服（困难）； 居于…之上； 在…顶上 | |
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44
situated
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| adj.坐落在...的，处于某种境地的 | |
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45
silhouette
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| n.黑色半身侧面影，影子，轮廓；v.描绘成侧面影，照出影子来，仅仅显出轮廓 | |
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46
crouched
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| v.屈膝，蹲伏( crouch的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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47
assailed
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| v.攻击( assail的过去式和过去分词 )；困扰；质问；毅然应对 | |
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48
poised
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| a.摆好姿势不动的 | |
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49
nausea
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| n.作呕，恶心；极端的憎恶(或厌恶) | |
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50
throbbed
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| 抽痛( throb的过去式和过去分词 )； （心脏、脉搏等）跳动 | |
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51
winding
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| n.绕，缠，绕组，线圈 | |
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52
triangular
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| adj.三角（形）的，三者间的 | |
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53
disorder
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| n.紊乱，混乱；骚动，骚乱；疾病，失调 | |
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54
windings
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| （道路、河流等）蜿蜒的，弯曲的( winding的名词复数 )； 缠绕( wind的现在分词 )； 卷绕； 转动（把手） | |
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55
collapse
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| vi.累倒；昏倒；倒塌；塌陷 | |
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56
wreaked
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| 诉诸（武力），施行（暴力），发（脾气）( wreak的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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57
vengeance
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| n.报复，报仇，复仇 | |
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58
succumbed
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| 不再抵抗（诱惑、疾病、攻击等）( succumb的过去式和过去分词 )； 屈从； 被压垮； 死 | |
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59
stimulus
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| n.刺激，刺激物，促进因素，引起兴奋的事物 | |
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60
avenge
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| v.为...复仇，为...报仇 | |
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61
shaft
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| n.(工具的)柄，杆状物 | |
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62
plunged
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| v.颠簸( plunge的过去式和过去分词 )；暴跌；骤降；突降 | |
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63
frightful
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| adj.可怕的；讨厌的 | |
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64
suspense
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| n.（对可能发生的事）紧张感，担心，挂虑 | |
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65
pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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rigidly
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| adv.刻板地，僵化地 | |
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67
fixed
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| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
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68
vaguely
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| adv.含糊地，暖昧地 | |
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69
slippers
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| n. 拖鞋 | |
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70
reposes
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| v.将（手臂等）靠在某人（某物）上( repose的第三人称单数 ) | |
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71
moss
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| n.苔，藓，地衣 | |
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72
feat
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| n.功绩；武艺，技艺；adj.灵巧的，漂亮的，合适的 | |
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73
legerdemain
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| n.戏法，诈术 | |
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